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Opera Now, November/December 2009

A World upon the Moon (Il mondo della luna)

Opera East at Cambridge, 24th July 

 

A trip to Cambridge and a jaunt to the Moon – not bad for a Friday evening. But then, this touring company knows how to kill a few birds with one stone. Celebrating the centenary of Haydn’s death, the 40th anniversary of Neil Armstrong’s landing on the Moon, the 400th anniversary of the first use of astronomical telescopes to map the surface of the Moon and 2009 as the International Year of Astronomy, Opera East made a fluorescent extravaganza of Haydn’s Il mondo della luna.

Carlo Goldini’s charming yet visionary libretto gives the opera its particular appeal. In order to secure the hand of his beloved, Clarice, bogus astronomer Ecclitico thinks up the obvious strategy for gaining permission from her father, Buonafede – he will convince him that he is on the Moon. Once this is accomplished, persuading Buonafede to allow the marriage is comparatively small fry.

Unsurprisingly, Haydn doesn’t embrace the cosmos in all its star-studded glory. Occasionally, celestial harmonies nod in the direction of sci-fi, John Williams et al. They pop up, for example, to punctuate Buonafede’s comment “We are on the Moon”. Otherwise, it’s not Haydn’s most gripping score. However, armed with his witty English translation and imaginative daring, Jeff Clarke created a production of, if you’ll forgive the expression, unbridled lunacy. Outer space manifested itself like a psychedelic Santa’s Grotto; purple tinsel and white spongy material decked out the stage, while ‘Earth’ (a plastic globe) dangled haplessly from the ceiling. Designer Elroy Ashmore provided an assortment of cosmic headwear, ranging from feathers to multi-pronged antennae. Most delightfully of all, the fabric equivalent of a hollowed-out pumpkin did service as Buonafede’s ‘lunar apparel’.


 

 
 

The singers indulged in childlike boisterousness. Colin Morris captured Buonafede’s endearing buffoonery with intrinsic comic ability. Andy Morton’s tenor was clear, light and exactly right for Ecclitico. Håkan Vramsmo’s voice was a little heavy in the rapid passage-work but his resounding baritone communicated emotion directly. Katie Bird’s Clarice maintained pure-toned expressiveness, Kate Flowers worked bawdy comedy to her advantage as the servant Lisetta and, though erring towards a slight shrillness in her higher register, Lara Martins brought charisma and spunk to Buonafede’s second daughter, Flaminia. Under Benjamin Bayl’s baton, the orchestra of Opera East gave it their polished, virtuosic, all.

Hannah Nepil 

Opera, September 2007

The Rake’s Progress

Opera East at Iford Festival, 29th June

Gauging the operas that will work in Iford’s miniscule space is an art in itself. In this instance, the natural affinity between the Italianate setting and Stravinsky’s neo-Classical score was apparent; moreover, the clarity with which the vocal and instrumental lines were defined was often revelatory. The conductor Oliver Gooch certainly revealed himself as a Stravinsky interpreter of real insight.

The respect accorded both William Hogarth, whose paintings first inspired Stravinsky, and the librettist WH Auden in his centenary year was also significant. The director Jeff Clarke and his clever designer Gabriella Csanyi-Wills managed to retain much of the spirit and feel of the 18th century whilst incorporating elements of the 1950s (The Rake’s Progress was first performed in 1951) as well as of the present. Periodic posturing for digital and video cameras offered a modern equivalent of Hogarth; Bedlam became a cybercafé, where the zombie-like escape into virtual reality. This was an uncomfortably telling parallel, fulfilling the essential requirement that a morality tale should pertain to any and every era.

Yet it was Clarke’s reflection of the Jungian slant of Auden’s libretto (written with Chester Kallman) that brought such a strong psychological truth to this production. Instead of a Shadow whose presence is satanic and physically overbearing, Daniel Grice matched Peter Wilman’s Tom in height and build; by their being dressed identically, the idea of an internal demon was forcefully suggested.

 

Grice proved himself to be a singer of considerable stature, implying the insinuating charms of Nick as well as his darkly sinister power most convincingly. Wilman may not have been in the same league as Grice in what is anyway a hugely taxing role, but he touchingly conveyed Tom’s gullibility and, even as his money disappeared, sympathy accrued steadily thanks to the deeply genuine expressions of his love for Anne. By the time it was translated into Adonis’s love for Venus, it was heart-rending. Revecca van den Berg’s Anne Truelove was impressive; always in control and movingly sung. Louise Crane’s Mother Goose was strong, carrying the pantomime flamboyance of the character while also suggesting that this tart still has a beating heart. Deborah Hawksley’s Baba was extremely gutsy too and, since Iford operates with a skeleton staff, the fervour with which Crane and Hawkesley threw themselves into the multitude of other roles with the ensemble only added to the enjoyment of the evening.

The way in which, in the blink of an eye, the Iford cloiser’s central well became, among other things a carriage and then the basis of the bread-machine was amazing. But nothing outdid the frisson of excitement of the auction scene, with bids seeming to come from behind our shoulders and with the enthusiasm of Nicholas Smith’s auctioneer carrying a real charge. Wraparound sound doesn’t come better than this. Gooch’s handling both of his singers and players was admirable. The chamber-style instrumental line-up, with just one stringed instrument per part, risked being horribly exposed; instead it brought intimacy and transparency to the music. In this context, what is sometimes felt as the cloying self-consciousness of Stravinsky in neo-Classical mode took on an altogether more credible dimension.

Rian Evans

 

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